


Until Color

by DarkPoisonousLove



Category: Winx Club
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, Kissing, angel au, siren au, siren x angel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 12:29:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30089127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkPoisonousLove/pseuds/DarkPoisonousLove
Summary: An encounter with the most dangerous creature of all bled color into Faragonda’s world. Now temptation calls her away from the limited existence of an angel. Is there a choice between goodness and happiness or are things not at all the way an angel perceives them?
Relationships: Faragonda/Griffin (Winx Club)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Until Color

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this about a month ago and I thought it would be on time for Femslash February. Hehe! Funny, funny. My brain vetoed that so it only comes now. The first three sentences are a prompt I got from tumblr and saw lying around in my notes. I thought of subverting every damn concept in them, though. Enjoy this torrid love affair!

“Mine,” the siren murmured, dragging her lover into the ocean and ever deeper.

That was the day the angels learned their own could be tempted. Tempted and devoured like any other creature the sirens got their claws into. That was the day the full story got thrown down in the dark depths of the sirens’ minds for only them to remember it once heaven turned away from the two writing it and history never bothered to even learn their names.

“Are you sure you want to come down with me?” Griffin didn’t offer a hand along with the words to let Faragonda relax in the undisturbed waves around them. She couldn’t have taken it when she knew what came flooding in with the touch of the siren’s skin. She’d seen enough of it.

She nodded before looking up to the sky, more to make sure it wasn’t descending upon her to snatch her out of the ocean and keep her suspended in a cold trap midair rather than to catch a last glimpse of it. It looked just like the sea. Colorless. Just like Griffin. All the difference came from the siren swimming in the excited waters while the weightless mass above remained silent and unmoved.

“You’re sure no one will suffer from my choice?” Her insides lurched in all possible directions as if to rip themselves apart at the idea.

“I am sure all of the angels you left behind won’t be pleased,” Griffin’s lips curled in the shape of a fishhook to pierce through her willingness to be the bait for the rest of her kind to follow her downfall, “but since angels can’t suffer...” Griffin drove a finger through her own hair brutally but the only drops of water on her skin still carried just the salt of the sea. “You can’t feel much at all, can you?”

“No humans will be sacrificed in this, you promised.” The calmness of her voice was like bile bubbling up from inside her but nothing came out. Was there even anything inside her or was she hollow? Yet another question without answer when she couldn't let herself ask the creature in front of her. She’d already asked enough of her.

Griffin rolled her eyes, a huff falling from her lips to steer the water around them. “There’s only one soul I can give you.”

The sweetness of her voice lured Faragonda closer to taste it from her lips unlike all the fruit the flavor of which was lost on her tongue in her ethereal nature. Sirens didn’t have that problem but she’d seen Griffin turn erratic at the smell of blood at the other end of the ocean.

“Mine,” the word dripped more power than that of the sea from all the defiance packed into the meaning of it being uttered. “Follow me.”

The waves swirled around them into a funnel to hide them from the world above and open a passage to the depths. Faragonda was caught in the water pressing against her in a way her own magic never touched her when she used it to help others. Her wings fluttered weakly like a folded leaf twirled by a hurricane and she felt no lighter. No heavier either. Always the same. Her old self.

She let her imagination run free further than she could reach into the abyss she’d avoided despite her immunity to most of its threats. With no drowning soul to rescue there was only colorless vastness in her sight to tint in the only blue she’d ever seen at the brush of Griffin’s hand against hers. It had been a moment that had never died, her immortality along with Griffin’s taking them through centuries at an arm’s length. She didn’t know the precise amount of time for it to be revealed to her if she opened her mouth and asked Griffin. Just the thought of the action caused pain deep inside her and not in her jaw with her limited knowledge of the world and her limited feelings on the paradox Griffin was.

She’d plunged in the ocean after the screams of a drowning man only to be hit with silence on the way there. She’d been late. She’d barely had the words, or the feelings, for the unprecedented occurrence. That had been before she’d seen the siren.

No human carried themselves like that in the water despite the lack of differences Faragonda’s eyes could spot in the forms of the two species. The fast pace and unmistakable intent in the shape approaching her had gripped her mind and body with opposing impulses. The heavens had hissed in her head to remove herself from danger’s path but the calm waters around had lulled her reflexes to sleep as she’d watched the familiar body of an unfamiliar but infamous creature close in on her. Just as colorless as all the rest of existence to raise no alarm. Until she’d opened her mouth to see Faragonda bolting towards the surface, her wings struggling against the density of the foreign realm.

The siren hadn’t caught her but she’d caught a feel of her hand, the warmth of skin ripping through her like fire in a way it never did with humans through whom her fingers almost passed. Color had bled in to plunge her world in blue–like she’d heard people call the sea–as she’d shot out of the water. And underneath her – two eyes in faint gold–the color of a dying sunset–and a whiff of the purple Griffin’s hair was woven from. Wisteria.

She’d crossed a line when she’d lingered behind after her job had been done, the powder from her wings already having healed the stab wound gaping in the wholeness of the body in front of her. The color had risen in her mind again stinging her eyes with the inability to see it and she’d let it wash the blood out of the head of the man she’d helped and drown out any other thought. He’d walked for miles until he’d found the answer to the impulse she’d infected him with. A tree with blossoms still appearing colorless to her but the shape of which had seared into her mind for her to color them in the shade she remembered every time she saw them. Or Griffin. Wisteria. The name of her ache.

It had been at first, when she’d blamed the siren for planting temptation in her heart. Until she’d touched her again and more color had bled in – an angry sun and dark amethyst. Griffin wasn’t the source of the yearning in the center of her being. It was the ability to see colors that she didn’t have, the nature of being something other than an angel that wasn’t hers to have. Griffin was the solution. And the betrayal to her self and all her kind was all hers.

They reached a bottom that was supposed to be dark but to her was all the same. To any angel it would be if they dared enter the sirens’ domain. It was almost an instinct–much like rushing to a suffering soul they couldn’t avoid hearing scream for help–to evade sirens. Saving drowning people was done with swiftness and caution – not just for the person, but also for minimizing the chances of contact. The chances of a siren’s voice latching on to them like a trap springing.

“After the kiss is over, we’ll both be human,” Griffin explained, her voice as alluring as it’d been the first time and during any other interaction, normal. Faragonda couldn't help the pull of the knowledge Griffin shared freely. And to think a kiss held such power. “We won’t be able to breathe underwater and I’ll have to get us back to the surface as soon as possible. You have to hold on all the way through. Especially at the end. Understand?”

Faragonda nodded, her lips moving of their own will. “Why me?” Was she after Griffin’s voice or her own? They had both agreed to sacrifice everything they were so why stall now? “Was it because I was the only angel you could tempt down here?”

Griffin looked at her with emotion she couldn't decipher when all she saw were the contours of it, not the colors and intricacies. “I haven’t done a thing to tempt you. I couldn't.” The words came out forceful, like they always did when Faragonda asked questions about the world. Yet, Griffin answered them anyway. She was the only one who did. “Sirens can’t tempt angels. We don’t have that kind of power.”

The wings fluttered on Faragonda’s back like an angry wasp’s in demand of an explanation. Not from Griffin, but Griffin was the only one that would give it to her. If it were all lies, heaven sure was putting her to the test. She couldn't blame herself for falling.

“In the beginning of the world there were no angels or sirens,” Griffin filled the void her silence had carved in the water around them. “There were just people and some of them were blessed with magic by the Great Dragon. There were different kinda of magic users but the most prominent one were fairies. Their fairy dust could heal wounds and abolish darkness.” Like the powder of her wings.

She’d heard fairies were the human equivalent of angels. They had magic and wings and while their fairy dust was a weaker version of her powder, they were tangible beings. They could touch and see in color, and be seen, the warmth of a smile not unfamiliar to them just like the warmth of a hand. Of happiness.

“Then the fairies rebelled against the exploitation of their abilities to cleanse everyone’s souls from darkness while people put little to no effort in doing it for themselves. Their fairy dust had limits. It was bound to their life force and they had only so much of it.” An unfamiliar concept when her powder was as plentiful as the colorless horizon in front of her was vast every time she looked at the world. “Seven fairies who became known as the Ancestral Fairies gathered resources and magic to create a safe haven for all fairies like them who had had enough of being exploited.”

“Did they make it?” It was her own voice she was looking for. To make sure she hadn’t lost it. Hadn’t had it stolen by just a story of the pain and horror of what had transpired... and lived in Griffin’s mind.

“They were captured,” Griffin’s voice didn’t tempt but burned now – through her eyes as if to burn the images in them. “And so were all of their followers, to be brought to a place called Light Rock where the darkness was drained out of them via the shine of the Water Stars to leave behind only the bright flames of the Dragon Fire. Their essence was reduced until they lost their tangibility and any sight as they themselves were made of light.”

Faragonda clenched her eyes shut. “Angels.” They’d lost their ability to cry as well. To feel anything but positive emotions. But how are you to tell you’re happy when that’s all you’ve ever been? To her it was all the same – every day and every feeling. Until the yearning for wisteria had exploded in her to leave her aching.

“The Water Stars were obscured in darkness and cast away into the ocean they’d created.” The harshness of the words stood out even more in contrast with Griffin’s melodic voice making Faragonda look to make sure it hadn’t cut her in half. “As if they weren’t the opposite of the Dragon Fire in power and element. They shed the darkness for it to spread over the bottom of the ocean that had once been lit by the stars in the sky and make it impossible to see in the deep instead. That was where the sirens were born from the stardust of the Water Stars mixing with the darkness.” Griffin blinked as if the abyss staring right at her had won. “The colors we see are so intense. They stab through our minds and burrow themselves there to never be washed away. So do smells and tastes, touch, all sorts of information we can never forget. We hold it inside our minds like the darkness of space holds the stars and the planets, and all the life on them.”

Her questions. They reminded Griffin of the vessel she’d been made. “What about sounds?” She had to know. She couldn't stay blind anymore.

“Sounds are the worst,” Griffin’s voice trembled like a string pulled too hard and wailing for mercy. Faragonda had always heard similar cries from musical instruments and nature – not human souls but touched by them and left with more than just fingerprints smudged over them. She was there to listen at least if not offer the power to grant the plea. “Sounds always remind us of our own screams that everyone not only ignores but calls beautiful.”

No!

“Hypnotizing even.”

She couldn't have missed it.

“Tempting.”

“Your song.” How had she not heard it? Had she been so wrapped up in herself that she’d missed the suffering of another soul? Had she gone rogue because she’d always been a bad angel? “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Sorry is no good coming from an angel.” Griffin swallowed as if the words were harder to say than to hear. “Tell me again when you’re no longer one.”

Faragonda nodded. The first promise she was giving. It dug inside her mind like no blessing had ever stayed with her. She always forgot the faces, never even knew the lives she saved. This time she knew the colors of the future she breathed life into.

“Siren voices don’t work on angels because the species used to be one. Sirens were the darkness of the soul of which angels were the light. Light that was forced to shine. It will never hear the cries of the darkness it was made to obliterate.” Yet, the words were coming out in a downpour now. “That’s why sirens sing to humans. We couldn't leave the depths of the ocean but even the darkness pierces our perception with excessive details and the blood of killed fish makes us sick. Ships are a moving hell bustling with life that offers a chance at escape.”

Griffin’s eyes were looking through her and for the first time it hurt in a different way. It hurt that she couldn't block the pain from clouding Griffin’s gaze.

“When we touch someone, they feel what we feel, and when we kiss them, all our feelings and the sensations we experience pass into them.”

Bright blue. Deep gold and dripping purple. A warm hand. Salt in the air making its way down her lungs. Griffin’s life had flown in her and she’d been jealous. Now all she wanted was to give her some of her calm.

“Humans provide but a brief relief as they’re already a mix of light and darkness and don’t live nearly as long as we do. The only way to complete the process is for an angel to mix their light with a siren’s darkness.”

A kiss. Soft lips. Warm lips. Red she hadn’t seen and couldn't imagine. A taste of fullness. A taste of peace. A promise to keep.

“Siren’s don’t go after angels, though,” Griffin wasn’t finished unburdening her heart yet. “Humans jump off of ships lured by the bountifulness our voices let them touch themselves to. But angels are too pure. All an angel cares about is goodness and a siren has none of that, only the self-serving interest of relief, peace, calmness. You can’t hear our song so no siren bothers luring what is out of reach to break their own heart.” Griffin looked down at her, a deep crease running through her forehead like a crack.

Sinking? She was sinking. Another thing an angel couldn't do. She had to be the worst of them and gold bled into the thought to elicit a smile. “Will you try it for me?” her wings shuddered as she forced them to line her up with Griffin once again. “Maybe we were meant to meet if you never tried to lure me closer.” It wasn’t that she hadn’t heard her. Griffin had never sang. “Maybe I can hear you.”

Griffin looked right into her this time carving deeper than Faragonda had ever managed to reach inside herself. Carving through _something_ inside her. She had to be. Otherwise, how could she feel the path of Griffin’s gaze in her being?

Whatever was filling out the hollowness inside her she’d feared was enough for Griffin. She opened her mouth and what came out of there was less a song and more a single sound of bubbling intensity. There was so much of it, _in_ it, that Faragonda could drown in it herself as it filled her up to overflowing, to sensation, to... pain. There was a sharp pulsing inside her caught in the rhythm of Griffin’s anguish. Perhaps not a heart–not in the traditional sense–but she wasn’t empty. She wasn’t cold. She could feel for someone else.

Griffin’s mouth hung open even as the sound died. “You can hear it.” No question. Just rapid blinking. Tears, from a siren. Impact of a positive emotion slicing through all of her pain.

“Do you know why I looked for you?” No pause for thinking. “Not because of all the things I could see and feel with you.” A temptation like none before but she could have resisted if it came from outside. Just some colors she would've gotten used to the same way she no longer noticed her colorless existence. Smells and tastes she would've familiarized herself with until they only ever evoked memories inside her instead of creating new ones. Feelings as constant in duration and content that she would've confused them with her own after a certain point. But it had been Griffin’s outside world that had resonated with her inner one to bring it to life. “You never told me what I could and couldn't do.” It was the first time the words formed in front of her eyes without her mind sweeping them away like dust before she could say them. She’d become a complementary part–not a missing one, for any other siren could give her what Griffin could, yet, she had been the only one who had approached her–and together they’d done the impossible. An angel hurting and a siren crying.

“I was always close by when you were at sea or near the shore,” the huskier sound of Griffin’s voice stabbed her with the rawness of the words, of speaking at all after their miracle had cut through who they were down to the bone. “Not because of the limited touches we shared. I could get more relief from a human drowned in my kiss.” All those humans Faragonda hadn’t saved in her fear of corruption as temptation had lingered under her skin long after Griffin had been out of reach. “I hadn’t had many close encounters with angels before–you’re all conditioned to run from sirens–but you were different. A good soul instead of a good angel.”

What did Griffin know of goodness as she killed for a drop of relief that only left her yearning for more? “I’ve thrown away everything that makes an angel.”

“Exactly!” Griffin grabbed fistfuls of the water around them in her fieriness. “You’re not just good because it is all you can be. There’s at least a touch of darkness inside you, a free will, but your first thought is always protecting people.”

People. She’d be a human but how much could she do for them?

“Trust me, they’ll be safer with a siren out of the way,” Griffin said as if reading her thoughts. Unless they were written over her–still impossible to read in her own colorlessness–then Griffin understood. She had good in her, too. “And you can still help even if you do it through other means. We both can.”

“Kiss me.”

The siren’s lips on hers were starved for the contact as if she was the one who couldn't taste and her fervor only grew as her perception flowed into Faragonda. There was the salt again, already familiar but much stronger now, almost burning her taste buds after the drought they’d been subjected to. The warmth of Griffin’s body pressed into her sent shivers swimming over her spine like a school of fish making the water tingle as it splashed over her skin, but that was the heat spilling over her. Purple imbued her vision–violet, the word popping into her mind from another flow she’d almost missed–as Griffin’s hair was the first thing she saw sprawling around like the threads of a net.

She ran a hand through it to absorb the intense shade while the siren’s–was she still clinging to her previous self?–eyes were closed. The color of her own skin caught her eye as it grew richer and in her wonder she tugged on the purple strands. A bursting moan flooded her senses to break through her fascination with the process but Griffin’s grip on her tightened. Her tongue was more insistent in Faragonda’s mouth to explore every corner of it.

A pleasant heaviness set inside her as her heart pounded in her ears overshadowing the gentle whimpers leaving Griffin’s throat. They were weaker in volume but grew steady in consistency as Griffin’s skin glowed with blinding lightness. A sight to die for had Faragonda gotten to see the gold of her eyes as well. But without it the burning in her lungs unsettled the magical atmosphere to send her kicking her feet, her wings not responding.

Her fingers dug into Griffin’s shoulders to bruising but she didn’t let go until they were swimming towards the light above. All the blue flooding her vision relaxed her grip but she held on. She wasn’t letting go of Griffin unless she asked her to. She herself had no more questions for... the other woman.

They were human. The stinging in her lungs as the first gulps of breath pierced through them when the liplock broke and the vibrant colors she was squinting at told her that much. But there was more. There was a breeze on her face and water drops sliding down her skin, cold and warmth enveloping her from the water and Griffin, wet hair sticking to her back and swollen lips to scream of the kiss that had fogged her mind.

“I’m sorry.” The kept promise tasted even sweeter than when she’d given it to leave her senses overwhelmed and craving the salt on Griffin’s breath once again.

Griffin’s eyes shined on her with a mellow light in the sun’s stead as it had yet to climb on the sky and blind her with its rays. But for now she was met with wisteria and rich honey while Griffin’s even breaths brushed over her wet skin.

She reached out to stroke the purple strands, the feeling of them between her fingers perfectly new. She missed the golden brown when Griffin closed her eyes but the purring that filled its absence occupied her attention as well. Right until she remembered Griffin’s hair wasn’t the one she was seeing or touching for the first time.

She ran a hand through her own hair, the same softness startling when it came from herself, before gingerly catching a lock to look at. “Chestnut.”

“Chestnut,” Griffin repeated while consuming the sight in front of her, a small smile stretching her lips in recognition as she reached out to touch the brown strands herself.

She ran her fingers through them gently, never once tugging on the tangled wet mess. What stroked a shudder over Faragonda’s spine was the meaning attached to the gesture. They were both free of their longing for what the other could give them, yet touching was even more natural now. Like they longed for each other.

Her stomach fluttered with countless butterflies to cut her with the stillness from her back. Her wings weren’t responding, only bending slightly under the rule of the breeze. They were dead on her back. Reaching behind, she couldn't even touch them. All she could ever feel in them again was the elements. Why leave them strapped to her back then?

A finger traced over them in tact with Griffin’s chest pressing against hers to set her whole body alive with sensation. A ticklish touch on her wings that pulled a gasp out of her as she flung herself forward and further into Griffin’s warm, naked body against her.

“I’m afraid they’ll never move with your will again,” Griffin’s voice was higher, lighter, unburdened and even more alluring than before. “They are transparent now, no powder in them anymore. That is all in me. But they can still bring you sensation. You should be careful with them. It could be a very painful experience.” So that was what they were for. To remind her she had wanted to feel it all.

“I wish I could look at my eyes,” the sentence slipped from her lips so easily. No strings for it to get tangled into now that she was free of her duty as angel. Only the somber realization that she still didn’t know the color of her own eyes.

“You are,” Griffin pointed to the far end of the sky where black was just making room for the deepest blue. Blue that got to touch wisteria.

“I most certainly am not,” she locked eyes with Griffin, the honey enveloping her mind plentiful and sweet. And so were Griffin’s lips when she met her for a kiss.

That was the day two people learned what happiness was and changed the world refusing to acknowledge them.


End file.
